Marea Montante
by ThisZCat
Summary: It's not like Prince Gilbert is done being princely, or even done being a merman. He just needs a vacation-and what better way than to become human and hang out on land? It'll only be for three days. Besides, that sailor from the other day looks really, really good. (A silly fic based on The Little Mermaid)
1. Chapter 1

_Chains of jagged grey rock twist along the coastline, scattered amongst the sand and standing out in the shallow water. As the sea's tide continuously roars and undulates, dark slabs of stone appear and disappear, beaten into a labyrinth over hundreds of years. In gaps where the water recedes, small whirlpools swirl and reveal hidden crevices filled with coarse sand and bright green algae, before being blotted out by a crashing wave. Gulls coast on the breeze, calling to each other in the sharp blue sky, diving down into crevices if they spot a morsel. On sunny days like today, the maze of rock is perfect for human children to explore and hunt down crabs, but it's much too early in the morning and there are no kids around. Unless you count a certain 13-year-old, but he's not interested in prancing and probing. Nor is he human._

_The nearby town is reflected against pale green eyes, the colour of which is loathed by its owner and reminds him of mud-covered seaweed despite flattering splatters of gold around the rectangle pupils. Squinted against the occasional spray of seawater, the murky eyes stay resolutely fixed on the distant sight. Imagined sounds are playing in his ears as the town bustles faintly. Human beings walk the cobbled streets and dirt paths, and although he has a better view of them other days, he still knows what they're doing. They casually stroll along the beach with a pipe in mouth, or they carry cargo onto waiting ships, ready to sail to unknown lands; they barter on the sides of streets and gather in groups, laughing, chatting, gossiping, singing. A band of humans seem to huddle around a corner before another one, brandishing a weapon, hurries over to scatter them. They ride on the creatures called horses and haul goods around town with carts. Green eyes fix on one's particular path before it disappears behind a building, out of sight. The clothes they wear look weird, but they're layered and brightly coloured and worth hours of pondering. What do humans use to dye those clothes? What are they made out of? What are the things on their feet called? Are they optional? Is their skin white on the lower half of their bodies, or is that more clothes?_

_The water stirs behind him, and a cheerful "Brother~!" rings out crisp and clear against the roaring waves. He doesn't bother to lift his head off his palm or turn around or even respond. Instead, he stays put, keeping his lower two arms folded under his chest and leaning against the rock. His attention is so focused that he doesn't even notice one of his tentacles idly curling and flexing out of the water, a habit when he's deep in thought. Despite this, his younger brother is smiling up at him, chin submerged in the water and brown hair dripping._

_"Breakfast is ready, if you want any." _

_"Thanks," the elder brother says simply, just barely loud enough to hear over the tide._

_Glad to have not been ignored, his brother nods happily, a single curl bobbing. He sinks back into the water and glides under a crevice, squeezing himself through a hole in the rocks and into their home. After four blotched tentacles slide through, the opening is completely concealed when a slab grinds into place._

_Pale eyes continue to stare out in the distance, envying that foreign world._

"Your highness!"

Red eyes blinked into focus, and Gilbert turned his gaze away from the window, towards his visibly annoyed tutor. He was lying on his stomach, his stick of stibnite dangling limply from his hand, not serving any use. "Yeah, I'm listening."

The small room of the castle was silent, besides for the lecture the tutor had been trying to give moments before. Models of anatomy and architecture hung motionless from the ceiling and various musical instruments lay unused in the back, while the view outside the windows was deep blue and calm; a school of wrasse swam nearby, their scales reflecting the sunbeams. There was no reason for the prince to pay attention on such a beautiful day.

"You are certainly _not_ listening," Signore Roderich Edelstein huffed. "You were daydreaming and tuning out this entire lecture." He impatiently tapped his metal staff against the map, the one which took up half the wall, the one that had been commissioned especially for the king and painstakingly carved and painted by a skilled craftsman, the one Gilbert probably should've been paying attention to.

"I _was_ listening!"

"Then tell me what kingdom borders us in the south!"

"Masmavi!"

"Wrong!" The staff hit the map forcefully. "It's Pietra Lucida! Masmavi is in the other side of the sea!" Gilbert frowned, staring at the map with exasperation. The tutor cleared his throat and gently tugged at the bottom of his vest to straighten it out, then returned to pointing at different areas of the map. "Pietra Lucida, as I stressed mere moments ago, has been trading with us for centuries. They are known for having an impressive amount of exotic human goods from the Kingdom of Sicily–this island here–but the United Adriatic Republic on the other side of the peninsula has a far better–"

The prince blinked slowly, cheek resting against his hand, and his eyes wandered over to the window again as the tutor's words turned to mush in his ears.

"–due to their greater geographical advantage. Their borders have been relatively stable throughout their history, unlike–" Roderich turned to glance at Gilbert, noticing that he was spacing out again. "Your highness!" he shouted again.

Gilbert groaned loudly and chucked the stibnite up, then began rolling around on the cushion in protest. The models above stirred, disturbed by the current he was creating. His writing utensil gently drifted back down and landed on the ground with a tap before being tossed up again by the prince's thrashing tail.

Roderich, having long been used to the teenager throwing childish tantrums, waited for it to end.

"This is so pointless!" Gilbert shouted as he finally came to a stop, arms thrown out in exasperation as he lay on his side. "None of this geography shit is going to benefit me right now! I'd be more interested if we had enemies, but no one even hates us! Do you know how long it's been since we've been involved in a war?! We're at peace!"

"For the time being," the tutor stressed. "You never know what will happen. As the future king of Marella, you must always be prepared."

"Well it's dull. I'd rather practice another musical scale, not learn about, uh..." He squinted at nothing, trying to remember the country to the north.

"Just lie properly and let me finish the lesson, your highness."

Grumbling under his breath, Gilbert obeyed the first half of the demand, rolling back onto his stomach and supporting himself on bent elbows. But he continued to protest the lesson. "I need to take a bathroom break." When this was shot down on account of his bathroom break 15 minutes ago, he tried again. "I want to check on my slugs." When he was reminded that he had no pets, he tried one more time, pleading with a sharp-toothed grin. "I reaaaaaallly need to talk to Papa about stuff. You know, princely stuff. Secret royal business. Right now." Roderich simply stared unamused in response to that one, so Gilbert scowled. "Okay, fine. What's going to get me out of this room?"

The tutor smirked with contempt. "Well your highness _is_ meeting with the princess of Languedoc today, so I can understand if you're simply dying to prepare for that."

Gilbert grimaced in horror and decided to stick with geography for a bit longer.

Meeting with potential brides was definitely a brand of torture, he had decided. Perhaps it was even classified as a level of hell. Because there was nothing more annoying than being pressured into marriage, and there was nothing more maddening than having to put up with girl after boring girl for the sake of a stupid alliance. Gilbert placed his royal collar onto broad grey shoulders, eyes studying his reflection in the polished mirror in his bedroom. He did a half turn and adjusted the sash draped over his hips, making sure the cape part was properly attached in the back, and then sighed. To him, silence was never very soothing, but the quiet of his room was heaven at the moment. He thanked whoever built the castle for the walls of his bedroom, which were thick enough to keep out any noise in the halls. It was also good for some therapeutic screaming-his-throat-out sessions when he was upset. Speaking of which, his mind drifted back to the lesson earlier. This whole marriage situation was probably the reason Gilbert ended up getting mad at the tutor and his dumb map. Honestly, he thought his dad would've let him off the hook for a few more years; but for some reason, as soon as the prince turned eighteen, the king started badgering him about getting wed. And the only reasonable excuse given so far was 'alliances.'

Gilbert clicked his tongue. The excuse was complete bullshit, and he wasn't going to accept that as a legitimate reason. Not even from his own father. And so, until given a suitable explanation–"Or a longer fucking deadline," he uttered bitterly–he would continue to be difficult when meeting girls. Of course, he knew the importance of appearance when it came to ambassadors and rulers, and he knew how disappointed his father would be if he skipped out, so he at least made an effort to attend said meetings. Just like today.

But that didn't mean he had to _choose_ any of the girls.

Not to mention, the few girls he had already met were plain and boring, and why would he want to put up with that? "So fucking stifled. You'd think they grew up in a castle or something." Gilbert snickered at his own joke, staring into the mirror and placing his hands on his hips. Not too bad, he thought; at least he wouldn't be berated for underdressing this time. He ran a webbed hand through his silvery hair, not a speck of sand in it. A quick turn made the cape billow out. The rubies that wrapped above his caudal fin clicked as he swished his tail, and he paused for a moment to admire how the sunlight from his bedroom window caught his ear piercing and how it made his metallic collar glint. Ahh yes. Glorious luster. If there was one thing he was most proud of in his kingdom, it was their metalworking. They had long ago figured out a more efficient way of producing the metals that won't rust, and now their tools, cuffs, and jewelry were sold all across the sea and shown off in their fashion. Where the usual royal collar was made of intricate pearls and precious gems, theirs was notably crafted with titanium and silver and copper, inlaid with gold. Despite their peaceful stance, Gilbert couldn't help but think it made them look powerful. Plus, they looked damned good wearing it.

Grinning, he winked at his reflection. "Babe, you're the only one for me."

The muffled voice of a servant came through the door, telling him not to be late. His smile dropped and was replaced with a look of disgusted acceptance. It was showtime. He sighed and ran a finger under the collar, and finding nothing more to eat up his time, his royal highness Prince Gilbert Carriedo of the Kingdom of Marella headed towards his doom. He could already hear that stuffy title being loudly announced as he punched the wall next to his door for the third time that month.

* * *

For a country that boasted the most advanced metalworking in the entire Mediterranean, it was surprising that the capital's castle was not made of gleaming titanium. Instead, the mainly stone structure was one of the oldest buildings within a hundred kilometers of the Italian peninsula. The massive, domed throne room in particular was rumored to be the oldest part. While other sections had been added and rebuilt over the past several hundred years, the throne room was estimated to have been built almost a thousand years ago. Sometimes that age showed: large stone bricks, cut to the perfect shape, were cracked in a few areas where the walls met the ceiling, threatening to crumble under the eternal weight. Columns and arches had chips and scratches scattered on them where people had gotten too rowdy in the past, and the entire space was not as lustrous as it must have been originally. But these flaws had often been admired by rulers of the past and present; the current king, Antonio, fondly called it 'beautiful aging.' And nobody ever dared to say the place was decaying when the historic art on the walls and colourful stained glass windows were breathtaking on their own.

It was in this room that the foreign royalty were expected to arrive. On any other day, the large space would be empty and peacefully silent, with not a single sound echoing off the stone walls. But unfortunately, Gilbert was currently in attendance. Which meant that impatient grey fingers were rhythmically tapping against the eight-hundred-year-old red coral throne he was slouched in, and the taps were reverberating softly all around the room. It probably explained why the king was glaring with such intense dissatisfaction. But Gilbert figured, as he stopped and hesitantly curled his fingers up after making eye contact, that his father was also mad about the whole situation. Which was somewhat understandable. It had been a few months since this ordeal began, and patience was wearing thin between the two. Although Gilbert's was probably wearing thinner, since their visitors were running late today, and the absolute worst thing in the world was having to wait. Oh, how he loathed waiting. So as the royals and attendants kept _waiting_ in the vast, arched room, Gilbert moved from tapping his fingers to clicking his razor sharp teeth together, subconsciously trying to fill the endless silence.

Stationed to the right of him, arms folded behind his back and royal collar perched proudly on his shoulders, Antonio was a sharp contrast to his son. Between his spotted, bright red and yellow skin and Gilbert's lighter grey and white palette, it was a surprise to many that they were father and son. The obvious truth was that Gilbert had been found by Antonio and his late wife as a toddler, and the two had raised him as their own; but even considering that, it was hard to imagine a more opposite pair. Gilbert was much taller than his dad, they had completely different taste buds, and Antonio's kind and respectful demeanor clashed with the prince's roguish nature, although the king kept reassuring everyone that Gilbert was just going through that awkward teenage stage.

And of course, today's meeting was a great example of how they clashed the most.

"Behave yourself," Antonio uttered as he glanced over at his son again. Gilbert wasn't sure if he meant the clicking thing or the refusing-every-girl-he-met thing.

A servant slipped through the large double doors a moment later, holding the oversized handles behind his back as he spoke. "King François Bonnefoy and Princess Monique of the Languedoc Kingdom, requesting an audience with His Royal Majesty and His Highness."

"Let them in," Antonio said, perking up.

Both doors were slowly pulled open. Gilbert mouthed along as the servant proceeded to formally announced him and his father, having heard the same sentence too many times. The foreign king swam in, followed closely by his daughter, both holding themselves with dignity while draped in multicoloured pearls and stunning blue clothing. François' golden hair was tied back in an elegant way that distracted everyone from the long, messy bangs and lazy stubble. Monique looked much neater in comparison, with a large mass of pearls resting on her shoulders and perfectly groomed chestnut hair, but she didn't even bother to smile like her father.

Gilbert squinted. "The girl looks unsociable," he muttered.

"Don't prejudge."

François stopped and gave a sweeping bow to the two, grinning broadly at them. "Yes, we are finally here, terribly sorry for the delay! Antonio, it's been far too long! Nine years?" The heavy French accent made Gilbert cringe, despite himself. At least it was proper Italian.

"I think the Tyrrhenian Conference was seven years ago," Antonio said, index finger pressed to his chin thoughtfully and smiling faintly. "Right?"

"No no, my friend, I swear it was longer than that!" The foreign king rushed forward and draped an arm around Antonio's shoulders, beaming. "And if not, it seems like that long. But yet here we are, reunited again! Does it not feel exuberant?"

The prince zoned out of the conversation, only slightly taken aback by the amount of friendliness between the two, and his crimson gaze wandered over to the waiting princess. Their eyes locked for a moment before she nodded, silently acknowledging his existence. The young merman grinned, making sure she saw his teeth. But she seemed unfazed by them. His expression faded. With someone as dull as her, he knew this was going to be a long day.

"Gilbert," Antonio suddenly said, getting his attention. "Greet Princess Monique Bonnefoy cordially." The last word was definitely stressed. Gilbert turned his attention toward Monique again, an eyebrow cocked in unimpressed boredom. He lifted himself off the throne and drifted closer to her, looking her up and down, not caring how rude it must have seemed to be blatantly sizing her up. She was pretty, he had to admit–sandy brown hair, blue eyes, a nice figure–kind of short though, a plain face, and seriously, did she ever smile? He stopped a meter in front of her and gave his greeting.

"Yo."

The sound of Antonio softly face-palming resonated in the quiet room, while François snorted amusedly.

"Good afternoon," Monique replied with arms delicately crossed, eyes lidded to match the prince's own uncaring gaze. The room was silent yet again, the young royalty staring each other down while the two kings waited on the sidelines. An awkward mood settled upon the older mermen, who both realized this was going nowhere.

"Your son is very..." François searched for the right word. "...Charming. Although I must admit, you two look nothing alike."

"Perceptive of you," Antonio replied, subtly making fun of the western king. "He was adopted. My wife and I were never able to have children."

Gilbert didn't appreciate being talked about as if he wasn't in the room, so he looked over at the two kings.

"Papa, may I be excused?"

"No," Antonio said without even looking.

The prince frowned, lip curled, and turned back towards Monique. His dad definitely would not let the visitors leave without him and the princess striking up some form of conversation. And having no other choice, he took a stab at it. "...So. What do you do for fun," he asked flatly. Not that he cared much for the answer.

"Gamble." Actually no, he cared very much for the answer now; that was an interesting answer.

"Really," Gilbert responded, eyebrows raised. "Then how much you wanna bet they won't let us out of their sights for the entire day?"

Monique's eyes suddenly showed a mischievous spark, her voice lowering so their parents didn't hear them. "I will wager fifty mar that they will make us take a long stroll around the garden or attend an event, followed by a formal dinner, all of which will be closely monitored." She subtly patted the small satchel at her hip, showing that she indeed had the funds to back up that bet. Gilbert got the very pleasant feeling that she was accustomed to this type of nonsense and didn't want to be here either.

"I don't know how much that translates into ranne, but you're on."

A few hours later, the two teenagers found themselves on the darkened and abandoned outskirts of town, Monique smiling successfully and Gilbert trying to hold back his snickering. The princess handed over a few hefty coins from her satchel, dropping them into the prince's opened palm. "Fifty mar, as promised. Since they weren't able to settle us for our dinner date."

"That's because we _snuck out_," Gilbert said, his head still reeling from the excitement. He was a professional at sneaking away, but the two of them working together proved to be simply fantastic. After suffering through an outdoor game that was more or less forced upon them, it was only a matter of time before the two were able to quietly slip out of the castle when their fathers' trusting backs were turned. Not a single guard spotted them on their way out, either. Everything went smoothly. The prince palmed the coins, still smiling wildly. "But I'll gladly accept the winnings, thanks. Do you think they're mad?"

"No. 'Mad' is not strong enough to describe how they must feel." With that comment, Monique turned and started heading west, calling over her shoulder. "I am going to visit Lipari and then head home. Good luck with your marriage plans!"

"You too!" Gilbert shouted back. "Maybe they'll give up on us eventually!"

"We can only hope...!"

The prince tucked the foreign currency into a pocket of his sash and headed off in the opposite direction, intent on having a little fun somewhere. A small pang of worry started to crawl into his gut, but he shook it off immediately. He tended to pull these kinds of stunts a lot–his dad must have been used to it by now, right? Surely he wasn't that mad. Definitely not.

Maybe not.

Actually, the farther Gilbert swam out, the more trouble was probably waiting for him back home.


	2. Chapter 2

If asked what his favourite thing in the entire world was, Gilbert would take a while to decide. There were too many activities and objects that caught his interest. For instance, combat practice was fun, but sprint swimming was even more fun, especially since barely anyone in the kingdom could beat him. He'd wondered on occasion if that was why nobody ever played tag with him as a kid. Being rocked along in a stormy current was enjoyable too, but in the relaxing kind of way that he had learned to appreciate as he got older. Clams and swordfish were delicious, war games were exciting, and Gilbert's prized possession was his sash-cape. But all of those would get blown out of the water when he'd suddenly remember his fondest past time: hanging out with Heracles. _That_ was his favourite.

In fact, he was on his way to do just that.

The sun was almost set, which meant that the sea bottom had become pitch black already. But Gilbert was all too familiar with the area and could sniff out Heracles in no time. Unless the little bugger was somewhere else. That would be a pain. But sure enough, as Gilbert swam closer to their usual spot, he caught a whiff of his friend, partially masked by sand and dirt. The prince smirked and slowed his pace, coming to a stop right in front of a quietly napping form. Heracles' back and tail were concealed by sand, but the lazy merman had neglected to cover his arms and face. His tannish skin and wide fins, lightly blotched with brown, blended in with the ground, and his curly tangle of hair could be mistaken for a clump of dead seagrass. Usually, this made it difficult to spot him during daylight hours, let alone at night. Unfortunately that didn't matter to Gilbert's sense of smell, as the devilishly smiling prince swished his tail and brought up a cloud of sand right in Heracles' face.

A single cough told Gilbert that his dearest friend had been woken. "Yo, Hera! Up and at 'em!"

Heracles propped himself up and rubbed his face clean, letting out a soft groan. "...Good morning," the young merman mumbled.

"It's evening."

"Ah, right...good evening then..." He rose out of the sand, shaking off the excess from his curly hair and wide fins. "Has his highness found a suitable bride today?" The sarcasm was hard to detect under the lazy manner of speaking, but Gilbert easily picked up on it.

"Oh shut up." He elbowed Heracles lightly. "Be thankful you don't have to put up with that crap. Even _Edelstein_ was on my case today."

The other merman smiled sleepily. Since Heracles was 4 years younger, Gilbert had always thought of himself as an older brother to the kid. It was nice to pretend to have siblings. Still, they also considered each other best friends, despite the age gap–or probably _because_ of the age gap, since most in the kingdom thought the prince was immature.

The duo passed the time talking and goofing off. Gilbert proudly showed off his wealth of foreign coins and then spent the next five minutes sulking after Heracles informed him that they were only worth a small trinket at the market. He cheered up considerably when reminded that he hadn't eaten dinner yet, swiftly grabbing a blenny from its den and enjoying it as a snack. The evening's "daring escape" was discussed and bragged about while Heracles, hiding the fact that he was impressed, merely shook his head. Gilbert hid his anxiety just as well under a wide smile.

"Let's meet with Kiku tomorrow," the prince later announced over his shoulder. He was busy scouting out more snacks, scanning the ground carefully for any burrows, his vivid red eyes having somewhat adjusted to the dark. Heracles was lying down again, sleepily staring up at the inky blackness as he played with a stalk of seaweed between his fingers. Gilbert quickly stabbed the ground with one hand, continuing to speak when he found nothing. "It's been a few days, right? He probably has something cool to show us." The following silence, filled by the distant clicks of a whale pod, told him that his friend was thinking. He frowned and waited for a response.

"...I have a sinking suspicion," Heracles finally said, "that Kiku makes some facts up."

"No way!" Gilbert shouted, horrified at the accusation.

"For example...the 'sandal'..."

Gilbert waved his hands. "Okay, alright already, it probably _isn't _used to write on, but what else could it be? Besides, it's not like Kiku himself is a human. He's just a crow. He can make mistakes."

"The seeing glass."

"Yeah, everything was blurry, that was kinda..."

"He thought leather was edible."

"Hey, that's still up for debate and you know it." Gilbert smirked, swimming over and flicking one of Heracles' arm fins. "It smells edible, runt."

"Jelly guts."

"Sand eater."

"Vent head."

"Shrimp face."

"Slug-for-brains."

"You're the only slug here, lazy."

They solidified their plans for the following day, and then the dreaded time came when Heracles had to head home for the night. Soon, Gilbert found himself drifting alone in the dark, as his staved-off worries came crashing down on him again. The whales were long gone by this point, leaving only deafening silence to comfort him. He knew he had to go home and face the wrath of his father. There was no way he could put it off any longer, unless he wanted a search party to come after him. And Gilbert knew how remarkably embarrassing that would turn out. Shoulders drooped and brows furrowed, he tried to gather up the motivation to swim home. "Shit. I should've given my last farewell to Hera 'cause I'm sure as hell gonna die tonight."

Arriving in the outskirts of the city as quietly as he could, he was more or less cornered by two watchmen making their rounds. Or looking for him. Gilbert cursed under his breath as the two armoured mermen escorted him to the castle. He thanked the heavens above that they stayed silent the whole way, though; he would already be getting an earful from his father. Perhaps they already knew that, too, and were showing him some twisted form of sympathy.

Upon entering the darkened castle, Gilbert didn't sense his father anywhere, and he hoped he still had a chance of making it up to his room without any confrontation for the night. But as he made his way down the wide, quiet hallway towards the bedrooms, all hope was dashed when a voice spoke up in the dim light and pierced his very soul.

"Where have you been?"

There it was. The one sentence that no youth wanted to hear, the kind that was supposed to show concern but only sounded like anger. Gilbert cringed the heaviest cringe of his life, and he turned to face his father, a half-smile desperately forming on his face as Antonio glared with arms crossed.

"H-Hey, Papa..." He waved weakly, his fingers curling up like a dying plant. "We were just having fun, that's all..."

"Do you know what you've accomplished with that stunt? You worried the hell out of me, and you embarrassed yourself in front of the king of Languedoc!"

And then Gilbert's fake smile dropped.

"No," he snapped back, arm slowly dropping to his side. "_You_ were the only one being embarrassed. The only thing you were worried about was your shitty son making an idiot out of you, right?"

The defiant comment took Antonio by surprise, but he continued with a stern tone. "Gilbert, that is not true and we are not discussing that–"

"Do you even care why I ran off in the first place?" Gilbert's hands were balled into fists by this point, while his voice got progressively louder. "It's because of all this marriage shit! It's infuriating! Why the ever-loving hell are you forcing me to do all this, I'm only eighteen! And don't try to give me that alliances spiel again because that's bullshit and you know it!"

"Calm down!" Antonio was looking angry as well, but his eyebrows were beginning to knit with anxiety. Everyone in that wing of the castle could probably hear them by now. "It's too late at night to discuss that again, so just go to bed for now."

"Oh, what is this?" Gilbert crossed his arms. "Now that I'm arguing back, you don't wanna talk about it anymore? Don't ignore me!"

"I'm not ignoring–"

"Yes, you are! You're ignoring my feelings about this! That's just as bad as ignoring _me_!"

That seemed to quiet the king, at least for a moment. He hovered in the hallway, the worry on his face etching out his age as he stared at his son. Finally, he sighed heavily, hanging his head. "It's much more...complicated than that. There's no easy way for me to explain it right now; but Gil, you know this is for the good of the kingdom, so I wish you would stop being so selfish."

Gilbert let out a humorless bark of laughter. "_Selfish_? Have you looked in a fucking mirror?"

"Gilbert!"

"I see through you, now." The prince was smirking darkly at his father. "You're the selfish one. The only reason you want me to get married is so you can show me off, like some sort of accomplishment! You want to show everyone that the prince isn't useless after all!"

"Where are you getting these ideas? That's not true!"

"Stop _lying _to me!"

"I'm not!"

"Then tell me the truth!"

There was a painfully long pause as father and son faced each other in the hallway. Antonio was at a loss for words, too tired to continue arguing fruitlessly, while Gilbert was slowly burning through all his seething anger that had built up over the past few months. It seemed like any words the king uttered at that point would be ignored and disintegrate in the prince's rage.

The long stretch of silence forced Gilbert to assume he was right about his accusations, and he barely heard a weak reply from his father as he turned and headed off to his bedroom, his jaw clenched so tight he thought his teeth would crack.


	3. Chapter 3

_Several minutes pass in relative silence as the young merman continues to stare at the town. But, realizing that he is indeed hungry for breakfast, he finally slides his eyes closed and, with a sigh, sinks under the waves. He glides downward, tentacles propelling him as he feels along the rocks with outstretched hands. A boulder is pushed out of the way with some difficulty, revealing a back entrance to his home. He slides through and pulls the cumbersome rock back in place; the grimace on his face is half from exertion, half from annoyance. As he makes his way down through the short corridor, he clicks his tongue and wishes his scrawny self would start getting stronger already so he could move the damn thing as easily as his younger brother. Although, he can always go around a ways and use the front entrance, but breakfast calls for shortcuts. And besides, the reason the younger brother can move it with ease is because–_

_"I'm sorry, please don't hurt me!"_

_His eyes widen as he hurriedly enters the main part of his home, looking immediately towards his brother. "Feli–?" But there is another, larger figure in the room. The grey and teal colours of the armoured uniform mark the 'visitor' as a patrolman, clenching his short spear and hovering in the small living area, looking just as intimidating as Feliciano looks terrified._

_"Lovino!" The younger brother has all four arms stiffly raised towards the ceiling, craning his neck to look back, too terrified to actually turn his body around. "He's gonna lock me up!"_

_"Calm down already," the patrolman says, looking annoyed. "I told you, this is just a random inspection. Part of protocol. Nobody's going to jail." The tip of his spear lifts the lid off a jar, and he peeks inside before glancing back at the two brothers. "Well, unless you two are breaking the law. Then I'd have to lock you up. Hey–hands where I can see them. I don't want you pulling any tricks."_

_Glaring at the intruder, Lovino has his arms crossed. "I'm thirteen, what the fuck am I going to do?"_

_"Hands where I can see them," the patrolman repeats more sternly._

_Lovino shrinks back a little and slowly raises his arms, but not to the extent of his brother's panicked pose. He discontentedly watches the older merman swim around their home, searching over and under to find any evidence of lawbreaking, leaving items sloppily scattered about in his wake. Unfortunately, the brothers know that this occurrence is commonplace. There is nothing out of the ordinary for the king's men to drop by at random and make sure everyone is in line. The law gives them permission. But that doesn't stop Lovino from being pissed about it each time it happens, especially after hearing rumors from the adults that they search 'normal' folk's homes less often. Far less often, in fact._

_Lovino glances down at the tentacles comprising the lower part of his body._

_And he already knows, without having to look, that Feliciano is visibly shaking with fear, hazel eyes watching the patrolman's every move. He knows that it's taking every ounce of bravery for his little brother to keep quiet and not freak out. Because the situation is a thousand times more dangerous for the two of them._

_Relief finally washes over Lovino as the patrolman emerges from their small bedroom, looking like the search is finished. More importantly, he's not holding anything potentially incriminating. The young merman starts to lower his arms, frowning at the disarray of the house._

_"Everything seems to be in order," the patrolman says, casually spinning his spear as he makes his way between the brothers and towards the entrance, still left ajar from the sudden arrival._

_"Good riddance," Lovino mutters._

_The patrolman slows his pace, giving the youth a harsh look. "You're being a little too snappy for someone in your position."_

_"And what is my position, exactly? Being an octo?" He inches back when the intimidating patrolman swims closer, towering over the youth. But his defiant glare doesn't waver, even as his skin involuntarily grows a shade darker to blend with the floor. _

_"You'd better watch your mouth. The king allows random inspections to make sure ungrateful brats like you are safe."_

_"Vino!" Feliciano whispers desperately._

_Lovino keeps his eyes locked with the older merman, defiance bubbling up in his throat and overpowering his fear._

_"The only thing the king cares about is stamping out magic-users."_

_The room is silent for a moment before the patrolman gives a sardonic smirk. "And he will. Even that filth over there." He gestures over to Feliciano, who gasps._

_Dark green eyes widen with rage as Lovino throws himself forward, fists hitting cold armour. "Don't threaten my brother!" he yells._

_A loud crack sounds._

_He finds himself on the floor, holding his cheek as a cloud of blood swirls in front of his face._

* * *

The morning light was barely starting to creep into the windows before Gilbert was already up and tossing on his clothes. Waking up early had been his normal routine for years, but this morning was a little different. He couldn't be late.

Pulling the ends of his sash tight, the prince opened a nearby window and darted out of it, swiftly swimming over the city. Workers tended to the gardens of the palace below, and the faint sound of chatter made its way to Gilbert's ears as he quickly glided over the shops outside the walls. A guard silently hovered nearby, and Gilbert turned on the charm as he slowed down.

"What's up?" He smiled as he passed the guard, stopping to slowly circle in front of the armoured figure.

Oh. This was a mistake. It was Berwald, easily the most stern creature in existence.

"Your highness," Berwald said, his icy blue eyes boring into the prince's red ones. "What are you doing so early?"

"Just out for a stroll!" Gilbert grinned, idly swaying his tail. "I want to beat my speed record, you know?"

"Your father wants you inside today." Shit.

"W-Well, he never told me himself. Don't you think that's a little unfair? Let me go for a bit, I'll be back in a few hours, I promise! It's still really early!"

A terrifying silence filled the water between them, Berwald's eyes unreadable as always. Or maybe it was because he was a foreigner. Where was he from again? The Norwegian Sea? Gilbert never knew, but wherever he was from, it was probably a really weird place. A place where no one had any emotions or sympathy.

"Fine. I will give you three hours."

Or maybe Berwald really _did_ have a heart under all that armour!

"Thanks! I'll be back soon!" He grinned and quickly darted off again, leaving the stoic guard behind. Today might be his lucky day.

Far in the distance, through the deep blue and faintly lit by filtered sunlight, he could see a massive watchtower reaching high above the area. It was the first of many scattered throughout the kingdom's territory, and one of four surrounding the capital city. The watchers would be much harder to convince than Berwald if he wanted to leave the city, regardless of circumstances. But, as Gilbert steadied his pace and started to swim downward, he knew he didn't have to go through them at all. There was an easier route, one that he had shown the visiting princess yesterday.

He made his way around scattered homes and through archways, nodding awkwardly to anyone who bowed as he passed by. Soon, he reached a small area of the city that was seemingly abandoned. Broken buildings stood empty and silent, blending in with the rocky area as plant life and mosses started to take over. Gilbert stopped in front of a patch of seaweed, moving it aside to reveal a small hole in the ground. This was the ticket out. He had stumbled upon it a few years ago while aimlessly exploring, and to his knowledge, nobody else knew about it. Glancing around, he made sure no one had tailed him, then dove into the hole that led into a series of narrow, pitch black caverns.

It wasn't the easiest way to leave the city, nor was it the most comfortable. He had gotten his clothes snagged on the rough walls on multiple occasions, sometimes leading to him tearing a few garments. Those were tough to explain to his father. But after dozens of nights memorizing the ins and outs of the caverns, Gilbert was able to confidently push his way through them without running into any dead ends or scraping himself on anything. He had tried showing Heracles before, but since the younger merman lived in another town in the kingdom, he decided it was much more convenient to A: go through the watchtowers or B: just have Gilbert come to _him_. Lazy punk.

After about fifteen minutes of twisting his way through the crevices, Gilbert spotted a small spot of light. Within moments, he emerged out into the open sea again, rubbing his eyes. It had definitely gotten brighter out while he was in the caverns. He looked back towards the city and the tower, staying low so the watchers didn't notice him; it would be a pain if anyone official found out about his secret exit. The area remained quiet, so he quickly brushed at his vest and continued on.

From here on out, it would be easy to go around the other towers, considering he knew exactly where each one was. And it was absolutely necessary to avoid them. If anyone spotted him, he would never be able to make this trip again.

He was heading to the edge of the territory, where the humans were.

* * *

"Good morning, Gilbert."

That was the first thing he heard when he broke through the surface of the water. At least, he thought that's what Heracles said. Everything sounded kind of different above water―more crisp and sharp, like needles in his ears. The second thing he heard was the cry of seagulls overhead, no doubt circling the skies in search of food, especially marooned clams.

"Morning," he replied after he had gulped down a breath of air. Ew, even his voice sounded different. He would never get used to that. Neither would he get used to the brighter sun, as his eyes squinted painfully against the light. Where were all the clouds, dammit? "Is Kiku here yet?"

"No." Heracles leaned on the shore of the tiny island, chest pressed against the sloping sand as he reached for a stick not too far away. His tail swished a little under the water to give him a boost. "He should...be here any moment, though...Got it." He held the stick between his webbed fingers and relaxed against the warm sand again, stripping off a bit of rotten bark.

"I hurried for no reason?"

"Any moment," Heracles calmly repeated, flicking the stray bark behind him.

Gilbert sunk a little lower in the water, letting his tail rest in the muddy sand as air bubbled up from his submerged mouth. His squinted eyes traced the tree in front of them, the only mark of green on the island. Honestly it wasn't so much an island but a big rock. He lifted up his submerged chin and spat out a stream of water, watching it paint the sand darker. Despite all its drawbacks, land was always fascinating to him. Everything worked subtly different.

A flutter of black feathers came in from the nearby coastline, settling itself onto the branches above. Gilbert perked up and slammed his palms against the shore. "Kiku!"

The carrion crow above them nodded. "Gilbert-san. Heracles-san. Good morning." He itched his back with his beak, then glided to the ground where the two mermen were half-submerged. "It appears you have memorized my schedule."

"Nah, we just know you like coming to this island in the morning." Gilbert flashed the bird a grin.

"It's more like a big rock." Heracles mumbled.

"Agreed." Kiku added.

"Well―anyway!" Gilbert excitedly patted the sand with both hands. "Kiku, do you have anything cool to show us?"

"You would like to know if I have any more human items?" Gilbert nodded eagerly. "As a matter of fact, I do." Kiku quickly hopped over to the base of the tree and began scratching at the gravelly ground with his claws, uncovering a damp cloth bag. He pulled it out with his beak and picked around inside for a moment.

Gilbert and Heracles looked on, the prince craning his head to get a better view while the younger merman blinked slowly.

"Here it is." Kiku took out a small, silver instrument that gleamed in the sun; he held it in his beak as he made his way back to the two.

"Whoa..." Gilbert gently took it, examining it with furrowed brows and poking the pronged end. "What is it?"

The crow's feathers ruffled proudly. "After extensive research, I have determined that this specimen is known as a dingeru hopa."

"...Din-ger...hoe-puh?"

Kiku nodded, not bothering to correct him.

"Dinglehopper," Heracles said quietly, staring at the object.

"No, that's not it."

The crow tilted his head. "I am still unsure as to its purpose, but I am fairly certain it is for hair."

Gilbert scratched at his head with the instrument. "Hey, you might be right. This feels good." He held it out to Heracles. "Hey Hera, maybe it'll get all that sand out of your hair."

The younger merman reflexively moved to touch his matted brown hair. "My hair's fine."

Gilbert laughed and tried to poke Heracles with the metal tool, turning towards Kiku. "Don't you think it would work perfectly for him?"

"I, uh...I am not inclined to give an answer."

Gilbert's smile dropped, and he flopped onto the beach, pouting. "Why are all my friends so serious..." The heat of the day felt like it was drying his grey skin, so he sunk lower in the water, sighing contently.

"By the way," Kiku straightened himself again. "I have received information that may benefit you. There is talk of a ship that will be sitting in port tonight. It contains mysterious cargo for a celebration. The local birds warn that the items are a commonly known danger to anything that flies, so I will not be joining you on your investigation"

Gilbert blinked and lifted his head up. "Dangerous? What do they do?"

"Apparently they are thrown into the air and become temporary replacement suns, and they also produce sudden loud noises."

"That's amazing!" He jolted up so fast that his tail splashed out of the water for a moment, and he grabbed his friend by the shoulder. "Heracles, we have to go see that!"

"Please let me know how it goes." Kiku nodded once to them.

"We definitely will!"

"We will?" Heracles arched a brow. "I'm not really fond of things that...turn into suns, Gil."

"Hey, if the humans are brave enough to launch them while being on land, then we can go see them, too. We'll just stay in water. Come on, it'll be great!"

Heracles averted his eyes, instead focusing on a fragment of shell stuck in the sand. "...As long as we stay in water."

"Woohoo!" The prince threw his fist into the air, then realized he was still holding the foreign metal object. "Oh, right. Catch!" Gilbert tossed it towards Kiku, who flapped his wings out of shock and managed to catch it in his beak. He side-eyed the merman and strode back to his bag, dropping it inside.

"Unfortunately, I must leave and catch lunch now," the crow said, kicking sand over the cloth bag. "My sincerest apologies for leaving so soon. A local taccola stole my food stash earlier, so I must hunt for more. And then plot vengeance."

"Good luck!" Gilbert waved to the crow, who nodded at the two mermen.

"Have fun this evening. Stay safe."

Gilbert winced and shaded his eyes as he watched the crow fly into the bright blue sky. He realized a moment later that Kiku had probably come to the island in search of lunch, but he and Heracles most definitely scared everything off with their arrival. He'd be feeling guilty if he wasn't so damn excited.

"Fake suns!" He threw his hands in the air theatrically, grinning wide. "Can you imagine it? Bright things in the sky that make loud noises? Like those bombs the humans invented! BOOM!" He spread his arms wide as he shouted, falling backwards into the water with a splash. Heracles followed behind as the prince swam lower, away from the island and into the cooler depths of the sea. "I can't wait for tonight!"


	4. Chapter 4

Antonio didn't want to let the previous night's escapades slide very easily, but with the painfully growing tension between father and son, it was hard to enforce any concrete punishment or even talk things out. Gilbert knew that. So instead of a full day of bickering and possibly getting confined to his room as a result, the prince took advantage of that tension and spent the majority of the day staying the hell away from his dad. Which was easy enough to do, since the king was still the king and therefore had kingly responsibilities to uphold. The daily lesson was the only thing Gilbert had to stress over, and that even turned out to be painless and tolerable.

However, he knew his father would soon do one of two things: either corner him and force him into a chat to get rid of the unresolved tension―where he would most definitely enact some restrictions on Gilbert―or, he would let the conflict fade out and act like nothing had happened. He would probably even plan some more "dates." The prince desperately hoped for the second option.

After a whole day of successfully avoiding his father, Gilbert sat on his windowsill, watching the water slowly fade to black. It was almost showtime.

He was just about to leave through the window when he heard a knock at his door. Four knocks in a row, the last one a little softer than the others. Eighteen years of life told him that specific knock belonged to his father.

"Gil? Are you in there?" Antonio asked, his voice hesitant.

Gilbert didn't want to respond; but if he stayed silent, his father might assume he ditched again. Which, granted, was his plan anyway.

"What?" he said briefly.

His father thankfully didn't barge inside, instead choosing to talk through the closed door. "Listen, we've had our disagreements recently, and I know you're probably still upset, but I want to talk things over. I'm meeting with someone tomorrow, but we can talk after that. I want to clear everything up with you."

Gilbert honestly wasn't expecting that. Sure, Antonio was known to be pretty lenient about things in the past, but he had been overly strict about this whole marriage ordeal. Was that even the subject of last nights argument? Gilbert couldn't remember. It seemed like he had only blown up in frustration. He still felt like he had every right to be upset, but it would be exhausting to refuse his father's request and end up arguing again.

"Fine," he said after a few moments of silence.

"Alright," Antonio said, sounding relieved. "Well then, goodnight."

Hearing nothing else afterwards, Gilbert sighed and turned back to the view outside. He had a feeling tomorrow wouldn't solve anything, but it was probably best to go. And maybe something _would_ change if they talked.

But, putting that thought aside, he had somewhere more important to be.

* * *

"_Fake suns!_"

Heracles squinted as seawater hit his face. "Gilber―"

"Big explosions in the sky!"

"Someone's going to hear you," Heracles said, watching his overexcited friend splash the surface of the water.

Floating in the bay a ways ahead of them were at least a dozen anchored ships, all adorned with yellow lanterns and barely visible in the moonlight. Beyond them, the coastal human town glimmered faintly while music drifted through the air. Neither of the mermen could be spotted at their distance, but it was still the closest they had ever been to humans. Gilbert was already filled with energy from anticipating the explosions in the sky; being within earshot of humans made it even more exciting. No one else could boast about that. It was definitely the most dangerous thing he'd ever done...which meant that they needed to get closer.

"We need to get closer," Gilbert proclaimed.

"What?"

But the prince was already underwater, swimming his way to one of the ships. He resurfaced a minute later, staring up at the foreign structure just mere meters away. The whole ship loomed over him, casting a dark shadow. He could easily touch it if he wanted. Having finally caught up, Heracles popped out of the water next to him, taking in a breath of air before gaping at the ship.

"Before you say anything," Gilbert said in a hushed voice, taking advantage of his friend's constant pauses, "This is a perfect, once-in-a-lifetime chance to see humans up close. Without them seeing _us_! I bet even Kiku can't say he's been this close."

"I don't know..." Heracles started. "How do you know they won't see us?"

"We'll just dart away if they do! They can't swim after us. We'll be fine."

"I heard that humans hunt entire whale pods," the younger merman recounted as the ship creaked beside them. "They get harpoons and stab them through the heart and then eat the whole thing. They might even...eat us, too."

They both stared at each other, deadly silent as waves slapped against the wooden hull.

"...Wanna look inside?"

"Yes," Heracles said without hesitation.

After struggling to grab the edge of the algae-slicked ship, Gilbert was able to hoist himself up on slats and, in turn, help his friend up. They both sat perched on the side of the ship, listening to the music for a moment before working up the courage to look. The gap in the railing was small enough for the two to go unnoticed as they peeked in.

There were more than twenty humans spread out on the large deck. They wore much more clothing than Gilbert had been expecting. The skin that he could see was all one colour, too, instead of the multiple colours and patterns merfolk had. Some humans danced in the center of the deck while others stood off to the side, clapping their hands together while singing. One sat on a crate, playing a brownish coloured instrument neither of the mermen had ever seen before. It was firmly pressed under his chin as he quickly slid a stick against it, but it made the sweetest, liveliest tune. The dancers thumped against the floor so much that Gilbert felt it like thunder in his fins. Seeing humans like this, he wasn't even afraid. They were all so jovial and the song so catchy, he couldn't imagine them eating merfolk. He even felt the urge to join in. Mimicking their hands, he clapped along with the music for a moment before something lightly smacked his shoulder. Heracles was too busy watching the crowd to say anything, but his message was loud and clear: _Don't bring attention to us._

Gilbert reluctantly stopped, instead using his hands to hold onto the edge of the deck. He marveled at seeing so much wood in one place. They barely ever came across it, but humans seemed to use it for everything. From the looks of it, even the instrument was made of wood. His eyes trailed down to the legs, wondering if they could even swim with those twigs. That was doubtful. The view was suddenly blocked by someone standing nearby, and the two mermen recoiled and pressed themselves against the hull. Gilbert couldn't tell the reverberating music apart from his sped-up heartbeat. But the fear passed as the human seemed to only place a glass container on the railing before rejoining the party.

"I...can't see very well and uh...I'm going back in the water," Heracles muttered. It was true that the view on his side was partially obscured by a crate, while Gilbert had a wider scope. But the prince had a feeling his friend was shaken up from the sudden encounter.

"Go ahead," Gilbert agreed. It was best to play it safe, after all. Not that he would be following suit.

He barely heard Heracles slide back into the water, quiet enough not to be heard on deck.

"I'll just stay down here," his voice drifted up from below. Gilbert vaguely waved in his direction to show he'd heard him, red eyes fixed on the action.

A human standing off to the side caught his attention. Well, a lock of brown hair did. It awkwardly stuck out from its owner's head and was a sharp contrast to the serious face below it. In the midst of the celebration, the human—who seemed about Gilbert's age, but who knew how they aged anyway—was busy leaning against a wall, crossing his arms in silence as he watched everyone. Someone came up and tugged his arm, boisterously waving a cup of liquid around, splattering it onto the deck. The brunet hastily took the cup before anything else spilled, but refused to move from his spot. Gilbert chuckled at the oddity, and then it occurred to him that the glass was still on the railing above his head.

Making sure no one was looking in his direction, the prince moved his arm lightning fast as he reached up and stole the container. It had a small amount of liquid in it, something that smelled sour and awful. Gilbert sipped it anyway, gagging at the taste. He didn't know what he expected.

"Yo, Hera," he called down. "Catch!" He dropped the glass, hearing it splash rather than hit a pair of hands. He winced, glancing at the scene on board to make sure no one had heard.

"What is this...?" Heracles asked, examining it.

"It's for holding this really gross stuff." Gilbert looked down to catch a glimpse of his friend sniffing the container and wrinkling his nose at the foul smell. The prince laughed, quickly clamping a hand over his mouth to muffle it. A flurry of noise came from the ship, and for a brief moment, the two feared they were going to get skewered. But instead, humans were hurrying towards the middle of the ship as others took out more instruments, ones that jingled when shaken. Gilbert sat entranced, wondering what all the excitement was about.

The brunet from before was being ushered forward by others, who goaded him on. "You know this dance!" "Come on, Romano, don't try to run away!" Reluctance etched into his face, the brunet named Romano nonetheless followed the group, grabbing a jingly instrument as he went. The music was much faster this time, and Gilbert could have sworn Romano was trying to fight down a smile underneath that frown.

Then, the dance began.

Grouped into pairs, the humans moved their legs and shook their instruments so fast that Gilbert's eyes could barely keep up with it. Their synchronized footsteps made the whole ship shake along to the rhythm. The merman leaned forward, a half smile tugging at his mouth as he was swept into the music.

"What's happening?" Heracles' faint voice could barely be heard through the commotion.

"You gotta see this!" Gilbert craned his neck back to look down at his friend. "This dance is amazing; I've never seen anything like it!"

When Heracles only sunk deeper into the waves in response, the prince turned his attention back to the group. His eyes settled on the brunet with the stray curl. The human's body was moving fluidly as if he was dancing underwater, not on land. Bare feet were stepping perfectly in sync with the tempo, and he maneuvered around his partner as if it was the easiest thing in the world. No wonder the others wanted him to join in—he was the best one there.

Much to Gilbert's disappointment, the song finally came to an end, quickly replaced by cheers and merriment from all around the deck. The merman pouted. Music up on land was completely different from the type played underwater, and he had really been getting into it. But, surely there was more to come. He lost track of that human named Romano, too, so his eyes scanned the many faces on board. But when he finally located him, he couldn't look away.

The sour face from before was now replaced with elation. He was _laughing_. And suddenly the lighting behind him changed, enveloping his face in reds and greens and blues, giving him an ethereal look, as if Gilbert had suddenly died and gone to heaven.

"Hey, the fireworks are starting!" someone shouted as the air was punctuated with pops and bangs in the distance, and Gilbert reluctantly tore his eyes away to stare up at the bright colours that now filled the night sky. He remembered now. These explosions were the things he was looking forward to all day.

He dived back into the water, resurfacing next to Heracles to watch the show. A smile was plastered onto his face as the multi-coloured lights reflected off his eyes. Nothing Kiku said could have prepared either of them for this breathtaking sight.

"They really are like...loud suns," Gilbert said, not knowing how else to describe them.

"Someone called them fire-works," Heracles remarked vaguely, being drawn in by the sight himself and unable to look away.

"What's fire?"

"Man overboard!"

Their conversation was sharply halted by a human leaning over the ship's railing, pointing in their direction. The two mermen immediately ducked underwater, swimming away as fast as their fins could take them, images of harpoons threading through the water playing in their minds. But nothing happened, and they safely reached deeper waters without being pursued.

They took a few moments to calm themselves, clutching at their stinging chests as their bodies got used to breathing water again in that high-stress situation. Gilbert let out a nervous laugh, breaking the silence.

"That was, uh...close." He couldn't have possibly said anything more obvious.

"But..." Heracles looked upwards, unable to see more than a dim light pervading the surface of the water. "We did it. We saw fireworks..._and_ humans."

That brightened Gilbert's expression considerably. "That's right! Yeah!" He did a small victory dance, spinning in place while pumping his fists."We're the only ones who can brag about something as awesome as _that_!"

"Please don't actually brag about this, I'll go to jail forever."

The prince laughed, and they enthused about all of the details of this latest adventure before parting ways. But on his way home, despite everything he'd seen, Gilbert had difficulty thinking of anything except for that human's smiling face.

* * *

[[Authors Note: Yes his name is Romano, no that is not a typo.]]  
[[Also: "Fireworks" in Italian is "fuochi d'artificio" which means artificial fires and that's just awesome]]


	5. Chapter 5

Heracles' house was located outside of the capital city, in a part of the kingdom mainly dedicated to fishing. Small stone houses dotted the vast area, scattered about with half a kilometer of open water between each one. It was a huge difference from the stacked and crammed-together buildings that Gilbert was so accustomed to in his densely populated city. As a result, he would frequently get lost trying to find his friend's home. With each visit, he got better at locating the place. Or so he told himself. He didn't know how the locals did it.

Today, his goal was to go see the surface with his friend, but they weren't heading to the island this time. He had his sights set on something more ambitious. The fireworks from last night had left a spark in his soul, and his curiosity for land was only growing stronger.

"Herrrrracleeeeees!" Gilbert hovered outside the younger merman's house, tempted to throw a rock at it to get his attention. But a few moments later, a brown mop of hair stuck itself out from the small window, under which was Heracles. "Come on! It's time for an adventure!"

"I can't," The younger merman responded, placing his hands on the sill. "My mother told me to clean the house…."

"Well your mother's not here right now, is she?"

"…No," he hesitantly replied.

"Then come on! You can do it when we get back."

"Get back from where?"

Gilbert fanned his hands out in front of him, proclaiming it proudly. "The peninsula!"

Silence passed in the open space between them, after which Heracles ducked back into the house.

"Goodbye."

"Wait, no, Hera—!" Gilbert started, rushing forward and shoving himself into the narrow opening of the window. "We have to—ugh, you gotta come and—ow ow ow, hang on." With his hips tightly wedged into the window, he found himself stuck.

Heracles smiled at him, completely unwilling to help.

"Ow, my fucking dorsal," Gilbert whined, scooting himself back out of the house. He gave Heracles a pleading, pathetic look as he rubbed the scraped fin on his back. "Come on Hera, come with me? I snuck out and came all this way to come get you. It'll only be for a little while, promise!"

Heracles rested his hands on his hips. "We already see enough of the surface…while we're not supposed to."

Gilbert snorted. "That dinky little lump of sand? That's child's play! There's a whole landmass on the edge of the kingdom and you're not even a little curious about it?"

"No. Because I don't like dying."

"We're not gonna die," Gilbert reassured him, dismissing it when it actually probably should have been taken seriously. "None of those humans from before killed us, remember? And we'll stay hidden this time. Heracles, there's a whole different world out there. And hell, I know it's risky, but think of all the awesome things we'll see! Plus I don't want to go up there alone." He smiled pleadingly, a row of sharp teeth enticing the younger merman. "Please?"

There was a long pause, Heracles silently pondering his life choices. Gilbert knew then that he had to add in a little bribery.

"I'll uh…I'll get you that one food you like so much."

That piqued Heracles' interest. "Bone coral polyps?..."

"I'll even get the blue ones," Gilbert added in sing-song.

Heracles did love his blue polyps.

* * *

At the very edge of the sea, where the undulating surface was only a few meters above their heads, the two mermen found a twisting maze of rocks that crept out of the water and onto land. Under the water were multiple hidden passageways carved into the rocks. Gilbert decided it was a perfect place to hide out. There were plenty of nooks and crannies to duck into if anyone saw them, and it was close enough to see everything on land. Best of all, no other merfolk were around. Not that anyone would be crazy enough to live out there.

"Whoa, look at all the plants…." Gilbert had selected a spot behind a large slab of rock, his palms leaning against the grey surface as small waves gently rolled against his back. He had to squint at first, against the bright sun, but his eyes slowly adjusted. "They're so big! Are they all trees?"

"I think so," Heracles mumbled, eyes barely peeking above the rocks.

Past the shore was a small cliff, and tightly nestled against the side of it was a house made of wood planks. Besides for the single dwelling, there were no other signs of human life on the beach, but the nearby town was just barely visible at a distance. A few seagulls hurried along the sand, occasionally squawking at each other, while a warm breeze continuously rustled the grass not too far from the shore, so that the green mass undulated like the familiar world below.

Gilbert's eyes darted over the scenery, trying to absorb anything and everything. He couldn't look away. Heracles' eyes, on the other hand, were intently focused on a butterfly floating nearby.

"Wait wait wait, did you see that?" Gilbert suddenly said.

"Yeah, it's yellow," Heracles responded, still watching the butterfly.

"What—no, not that. Over there, next to the building, I thought I saw somethi—"

And that was when a human emerged from the dwelling, and Gilbert's head was shoved underneath the water as Heracles forced the both of them to hide.

A moment later, the two slowly peeked over the rocks again, their hearts beating hard against their chests. But the human seemed too far away to notice them, so they remained frozen in place, watching the man as he started walking down towards the shore. The human wasn't as close as the ones from the previous day, but seeing one in broad daylight was still exciting. At least to Gilbert. He never could figure out what Heracles was thinking at any moment.

The human kept treading along the sand, towards where the rocks met the shore. He stopped in front of the mass of stones and stared for a few moments, the breeze tousling his chestnut hair. He was still a good distance away from the two mermen, but it almost looked as though he was contemplating climbing onto the rocks. Gilbert hoped that wasn't the case, as that would lead him directly over to their hiding spot, and the prince didn't want to leave yet. He had just gotten there. But luckily, the human turned away and stared out at the ocean instead.

The breeze gently fluttered his brown hair again, along with one stray curl that stood out from all the other strands.

Gilbert gasped.

"That's the one—!" He cut himself off, covering his mouth to quiet down. He continued with a lowered voice. "The one from the ship."

"…There were lots of humans on the ship," Heracles replied, the fascinating butterfly from before catching his eye again as it floated within arm's length of the two.

"No, I mean…." Gilbert trailed off, remembering that Heracles hadn't seen what he had seen. He'd missed the fast paced dance and the swift, fluid movements of the human whose laughter caused the universe to burst into multicoloured sunbeams.

But that was just the fireworks.

"Well I recognize this one," Gilbert muttered shortly. "His name's...Rombo or something." The man sat down on the sand with his knees drawn up, water lapping at his legs every so often. From this distance, Gilbert could make out just enough details to be satisfied, because like hell was he going to try and get closer. This was already risky enough, even for him. "…The ears."

"Hmm?" Heracles glanced at the human again.

"The ears. They're so…" Gilbert moved his hands around, trying to think of a word to explain the oddly shaped skin. "Gummy!"

Heracles raised an eyebrow.

"Look at them. They're gummy. Why are they so gummy? I want to _touch_ them."

"Don't."

Gilbert ducked down further behind the rocks, having felt himself edging up too high. "Gummy," he whispered. He really wanted to touch them.

As Heracles' gaze wandered from the butterfly to the nearby town and the landscape between, Gilbert stayed focused on the human. He once again noted the monochromatic skin, how it didn't have any speckles or stripes or anything that merfolk had, how it was all a uniform sandy colour. He stared at the bare feet, half sunk in the tide, connected to a pair of legs that were covered in cloth above the shins. Legs were different under the sea—most things had tails instead, but if an animal did have legs, it had way more than two. Gilbert wondered what it must be like to put all of a person's weight on only two feet, especially since everything was much heavier on land. And it was a little unfair, in a way. Humans could easily walk out into the water and float around, but merfolk couldn't scoot their bodies onto land very far without running into problems. Then again, humans didn't breathe in water. So he had the upper hand there.

Still, it was something to daydream about as he stared at the man relaxing on the beach, the sun climbing higher in the sky and threatening to dry out his cheeks before long. He didn't even realize how much time had passed before he idly wiped his face with a damp arm. Heracles had already refreshed himself in the water, his hand dripping as he waved it in front of Gilbert's face.

"Are you still on Earth?..."

Gilbert pushed the hand away with a smirk. "Yeah, yeah, still here."

Then the man stood up, his chest heaving a sigh, and he wiped the sand off his legs as the sea breeze flapped at his loose breeches. He turned around and walked up the beach, towards his dwelling. For some unknown reason, Gilbert felt genuinely sad to see him leave. But really, what could he do? Call out to him?

"Hey, wait!" he called out to him, before a hand again pushed his head underwater, almost snapping his neck at the sudden force.

"Are you cra-?!" Heracles' voice was garbled as it came out in a gush of air bubbles, but he coughed and took in a breath of seawater. "Are you crazy?"

"Probably!" Gilbert snapped back, too embarrassed to say anything else.

Heracles shook his head, as if trying to accept his now-insane friend. They both floated in silence for a moment, surrounded by walls of rock as the surface waves tousled their hair. Gilbert decided to act first, slowly surfacing and peeking at the shore.

The human was staring out at the ocean, a puzzled look on his face. He had probably heard.

"So, uh," Heracles started, as Gilbert sank under the waves again. "…What was that about?"

Gilbert wondered that, too.

"We should go," he responded instead. "I promised you wouldn't get killed, right? And that was dangerous. So let's head back."

That was the end of their conversation, as Heracles was more than happy to leave.

* * *

By the time the two arrived back at Heracles' house, it was the middle of the day. Distant sunbeams filtered in, glinting off the scales of huge schools of fish that swam overhead. Gilbert realized that, besides for making a living catching fish, merfolk lived out here because it was beautiful, too. He hung outside Heracles' house a while as the younger merman mentally prepared himself for some fast-paced cleaning before his mother came home.

"Don't you have lessons today?..." Heracles finally said after a long stretch of silence, mostly filled with him staring at the outside of his house, as if willing it to be clean.

"Nah, not today, thank God." Gilbert waved a hand in dismissal, smiling in relief. "My day is mostly free, except…" His smile faded away only to be replaced with dread. "Shit!"

"What—"

"Shit shit shit! Dammit! What time is it?"

"It's—"

"I was supposed to talk with Papa today! I missed it!" He quickly tugged a hand through his hair. "No, no, I'm really the worst, I've done it now, that was my chance to…."

"Gil..." Heracles came a little closer, trying to calm the panicking prince. "Gil, your father won't murder you for this…."

"You don't understand." Gilbert turned to his friend, clenching his teeth with worry. "You've never seen him when he's mad. It's not often, but holy shit, he can get _mad_. I'm so dead."

"What were you gonna talk to him about?"

"Just…everything!" Gilbert gestured wildly with his arms, whipping up small currents that tousled their clothing. "About the whole marriage thing, and me being a fuck-up and-! Dammit, I was going to try and get him to change his mind about stuff…." Gilbert groaned and sunk to the ground, miserably lying in the sand. "Now I've gone and fucked up again, and he'll be so mad he'll force me into a marriage right away, just to get rid of me."

Heracles hovered next to him, worried for his friend. "If you arrive now…will he be less mad?"

Gilbert looked up. "It takes at least 40 minutes to get back to the capital, even if I hurry. The tunnels take forever, too." He buried his face in his arms. "Ugh, I need to get away, I'm gonna run away. And then when he actually misses me, I'll come back and he'll apologize." He was just ranting about a dumb idea, but then he slowly lifted his head. "Yeah…yeah that could work, right?"

"Um…"

"I'll disappear for a while, lay low somewhere." Gilbert got off the dirty ground and put a hand to his chin. "Once my father realizes I'm gone, he'll panic and regret everything, and then I'll miraculously return again! He'll be so relieved he'll forgive me of everything and I'll be off the hook!" He was grinning by now, all of his problems having a solution in sight.

Heracles tried to cut in again, but Gilbert quickly continued.

"And a vacation from him would be awesome. But where should I go? Out of the territory?" He frowned again. "No, someone might still recognize me. I need to go somewhere far away…" And then his eyes lit up. "Like the land."

Heracles couldn't keep up anymore. "Wait, how?"

"I-I don't know, but they'll never find me up there, right? I can find a cave or something to hide in." An added benefit to that, he failed to mention, was the chance to watch more humans up close. Especially the brunet one.

"Gilbert. Do you remember that time you wanted to see how fast you could stop yourself at top speed, and ended up breaking your nose?"

Gilbert grinned a bit sheepishly at that memory, having collided with a rock wall after gloating so much about his swimming prowess. "Yeah."

"I think…this might end up a lot worse. You tend not to think things through."

"The only thing I need to think through is a plan of action, Hera." His idea was perfect, and there was no going back now. It was perfectly perfect.

"You'll get all dried up on land." Except for that detail.

"Not if I…stay in a puddle?" Gilbert pondered some more as he heard Heracles sigh. He needed to get to a place where no one would find him, especially the royal guard, and land seemed like the ideal place. But it would take magic to keep him there. At that thought, he gasped. "Heracles!" He grinned in triumph. "What about that octo!"

"That…octo?"

"The one that was banished. Well, you might be too young to remember that. He was an illegal magic user. I can go see him, and then he can get me on land somehow. And I've got plenty of money to pay him for anything! They say he was really powerful…."

"What if he hurts you instead?" Heracles managed to ask, eyes wide with shock.

"I'm the prince!" Gilbert shrugged. "He'll bow to my authority, no questions asked. He's the one who's banished."

Heracles was silent, looking worried as he thought over everything Gilbert was saying.

"Come on, Hera, it'll be fine. I've never done anything that killed me."

"Yet."

"It'll be fine," he repeated.

Silence filled the water between them. Gilbert was set on the idea, but Heracles' hesitation on agreeing with him was starting to get irritating. It was a brilliant plan, why couldn't he see that? And Gilbert knew he had done dangerous things before, but this was not dangerous.

"Well…either way, that's what I'm gonna do. You can come with me, if you want?"

"No way," Heracles immediately said, shaking his head.

"Okay then! If it all works out, I'll meet you at the beach we were at earlier!" He turned to leave, and instantly Heracles grabbed his caudal fin. "Ow."

"Just…" The younger merman was staring downward when Gilbert turned around. Worry was written all over his face. "…Be careful."

Gilbert smiled back. "Don't worry. Meet me at the rocky beach tomorrow; then you'll see I'm fine."

As Gilbert swam northward to darker waters, he tried to convince himself that the pounding in his chest was from excitement, not from fear.


End file.
